Mercury Rising
by Kacey Conrad
Summary: 1st part to a trilogy-in-progress. Rating for mild language, a violent (not descriptive) situation in one scene. COMPLETE.
1. Prologue

"Mercury Rising: Keeping Hope Alive"  
  
By Astraea Silver  
  
Silver_Astraea@yahoo.com  
  
http://chezastraea.cjb.net/  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Monica, Tess, Andrew, or Gloria (or the dove, for that matter). They belong to Martha Williamson, CBS Productions, etc. The song "Eileen Aroon" is an adapted version of an Old Irish folksong that I found in an Irish songbook for the piano. The human characters and all situations in this story are mine. Please receive my permission before using anything of mine from this story in your own work. You can do so by emailing me at Silver_Astraea@yahoo.com. I am not receiving any financial benefit by writing this. It is purely for entertainment to others and myself.  
  
*PROLOGUE*  
  
Late one morning, a dove watched from its perch atop the branch of a tree as a solitary shadow swept briskly down the street and into the park. The being to which the shadow belonged acknowledged the white bird with a gentle nod before stopping in front of a park bench where another figure rested.  
  
"Oh, you're finally here!" the woman who had been sitting said in a low but grateful tone. Relief was clearly written on her mahogany face, yet she was still quite uneasy.  
  
"I came as quickly as I could," was the reply, laced with a lilting Irish brogue that hinted at her concern.  
  
Had someone passed the two, they most likely never would have supposed they were angels, dispatched to Earth to guide humans at the crossroads of their lives.  
  
"Thank you, Monica." The one with the deep voice sighed.  
  
Monica studied the snow swirling around them and straightened her beret. "It's certainly getting cold, isn't it, Tess? But at least there's snow."  
  
Tess nodded uncomfortably. "We haven't much time. I'm supposed to be across the city now as it is. Please listen closely."  
  
"Of course." Monica sat down beside her supervisor.  
  
"Gloria has her own assignment at the moment," Tess continued. "So do I; that's why I must hurry. I don't even know where Andrew is, but we've got to get you to work.before it's too late."  
  
"Too late?" Monica repeated, fear swelling within the concern.  
  
"Now don't you go and get scared out of your wings," the senior angel said firmly. "I don't mean to worry you. It's just.I don't know much of anything about your assignment, so I can't tell you for what to prepare. All I can say is remember that you'll know what you need to know.when you need to know it. I can also show you where your assignment is, but I don't even have their name." She paused for a moment, as if listening to something, or Someone. "Let's get going."  
  
*  
  
Now Tess and Monica stood at the top of a steep hill in the park, looking about them.  
  
"Tess, I don't understand," Monica said quietly. "Where are they?"  
  
Almost regretfully, Tess peered over the hill and indicated the bottom. Monica followed her gaze to a long, thin lump on the ground. Where it was not covered in snow, they could see patches of color.  
  
Monica released a small, startled yelp as the realization hit her like a blizzard; it was a person, and whether or not it was the person she was sent for made no difference. She slid a little clumsily to the bottom of the hill, catching her balance. Hurriedly, she knelt down, removed the snow from the child and gingerly gathered her in her arms.  
  
The girl appeared to be about seven years of age. Her strawberry-blonde hair was worn long and loose. It was now wet and tangled though held back with a dark green winter headband that also covered her ears. She wore a green coat over her shirt with jeans and plain sneakers. She still had one dark green glove, but she had apparently lost the other. Her skin was pale and dirty and her lips were turning blue from the cold. Monica could not see the child's eyes; she had not opened them nor stirred at all in general thus far.  
  
Tess watched, still standing at the top of the hill. But she knew she had to go, and Monica would have to handle this on her own, for now, at least.  
  
"Monica," she called gently, waiting until her protégé turned to her. "I have to leave, baby. I'll try to check on you soon. Don't worry. For all we know, this could be quite simple."  
  
The younger-looking angel nodded sadly; she had seen worse situations, but she tended to be very sensitive and emotional no matter the degree of sorrow or pain her charges faced. "See you then."  
  
"Goodbye," Tess said before disappearing from Monica's sight.  
  
Monica sighed and said a prayer for the young girl's wellbeing, and that this whole big puzzle would soon be solved.  
  
But she had not realized then just how big the puzzle would turn out to be. 


	2. Chapter One

"Mercury Rising: Keeping Hope Alive"  
  
By Astraea Silver  
  
Silver_Astraea@yahoo.com  
  
http://chezastraea.cjb.net/  
  
*CHAPTER ONE*  
  
"I can't believe it, Gloria," Detective Roger Lowell mused, sipping at his coffee. "You've hardly been here long.and you've gone and found the final clue in the case. Tommy's safe with his family and we couldn't have done it without you. Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome." Gloria smiled. "Even without thanks and compliments, this is certainly a very rewarding job. The look on Tommy's face, and on his family's. It's gratifying."  
  
"Truly," agreed Roger.  
  
Gloria sighed contently. "It's wonderful to know they can be together now."  
  
Roger stared into his mug, moving it so the liquid swished lightly around inside. "Yeah," he said after a minute. "Yeah, it is."  
  
Now Gloria paused, but decided to keep pressing. "You must find this exhausting.working on that same case for six months."  
  
"Gratifying, yes. Exhausting, sure. But sometimes a case takes a lot longer than six months. Sometimes.a case is never finished."  
  
Silence fell over them now, each deep in thought.  
  
"Hey, Roger," another detective called as he entered. "Can you two come here?"  
  
Roger nodded and set his nearly full cup of cooling coffee on the desk as he and Gloria followed their co-worker.  
  
*  
  
"Tell me about your family," said Tess, calmly sitting in the armchair and looking across to Patrick and Dorothy Sheridan.  
  
Dorothy fingered her reading glasses, which she held on her lap. Patrick was staring blankly out the window at a nearby frozen-over lake, lost in a reverie. It wouldn't have taken the most professional therapist on Earth to figure out the couple was uncomfortable; had not yet adjusted to anything that had happened recently.  
  
"Dorothy? Patrick?" Tess leaned towards the sofa that the two were sitting on. "Are you all right?"  
  
Each blinked in surprise, as if awakening unto the world for the first time.  
  
"Are you all right?" Tess repeated.  
  
"Funny thing to ask in a therapy session," Patrick mumbled under his breath.  
  
Tess stiffened as she faced Patrick in particular. She managed to bite her tongue, but it also didn't take a professional to diagnose Tess with attitude.  
  
Patrick surely wasn't embarrassed, though Dorothy could have been blushing for the both of them.  
  
"I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely. "What were you saying, Tess?"  
  
"Your family," said Tess. "Tell me about it."  
  
Dorothy felt a lump form in her throat. "Must we?"  
  
Tess resisted the urge to sigh, or twitch, or do something. "No. What you want to talk about is up to you. I just thought it was a basic conversation. What would you like to discuss?"  
  
"Well," Dorothy began, turning to Patrick.  
  
Father, thought Tess, still smiling to Patrick and Dorothy, please, please give this angel patience.  
  
*  
  
Her own patience running thin and her worry consuming her as she sat beside the seemingly lifeless child, Monica sighed and held her closer.  
  
She hadn't been able to take the girl far, but had managed to carry her to another nearby park bench. There they both rested as Monica tried to warm the fragile human.  
  
"There, now," she said, forcing a smile to replace the tears that had trickled down her cheeks and to her lips. "At least you're a wee bit drier, and hopefully warmer, too." Monica placed her own scarf on the child and stroked her hair, hoping to get some more of the dampness out. She had also removed the one glove and put her own two on the girl. Monica knew they would do much more for her charge than for her anyway.  
  
She paused, having heard a small sound. She was certain she heard something. A whimper. A cry.  
  
The child squirmed a little before her eyelids fluttered open.  
  
"You're awake," Monica stated superfluously.  
  
The girl rubbed her eyes as if checking that she wasn't hallucinating. "Where.where am I? What's goin' on? Who are you?"  
  
"My name is Monica. I found you lying in the snow not far from here. Are you okay?"  
  
The child looked herself over, wiggled around to see everything still functioned, and nodded her head yes, causing Monica to laugh, and even she smiled despite her chattering teeth.  
  
"Is your name Lena?" Monica asked, giving her what she hoped was her friendliest smile.  
  
"W-what?"  
  
"Lena. I found it written on the label in your glove."  
  
"I.guess. Yes, that sounds right."  
  
Monica tilted her head to the side. "I know this is going to sound odd but.what do you remember about yourself?" Monica knew what it was like to experience amnesia; she had once before, and she desperately hoped young whatever-her-name-was didn't have to now. Although.it really didn't appear to Monica to be amnesia, so what could it be?  
  
"I remember." Lena paused, thinking carefully. "Snow."  
  
"Snow?"  
  
"Snow," Lena repeated. "Cold.lost.in the snow."  
  
Monica gulped. What was she to do?  
  
"No one," Lena whispered, subconsciously rubbing her forehead.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Monica arched her eyebrow.  
  
"I think no one wanted me," Lena explained, more to herself than to Monica. "That's why I was sitting in the park."  
  
Monica looked directly into the child's eyes. "I'm sure that isn't true." She paused, giving Lena a chance to speak, but when she didn't, Monica asked, "How did you get down the hill?"  
  
Lena peered up at the angel questioningly. "Hill?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What hill?"  
  
"You.don't remember the hill?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Yes, you do?"  
  
"No."  
  
"You don't."  
  
"WAIT!" Lena cried. "You're confusin' me!"  
  
"I'm sorry," said Monica. "You don't remember a hill?"  
  
"I don't remember a hill." Lena decided there was no way she was going to answer one of Monica's questions with 'yes' or 'no' again. "My head hurts."  
  
"We can't let you fall asleep now." Monica knew Lena was probably very tired but didn't want to risk her going into a coma. "I don't know what happened. Do you remember anything at all?"  
  
Lena went to shake her head, then nodded. "Snow.no one.park. No hills. I want my mommy."  
  
"Would you like me to stay with you until you find her?" the angel asked, offering another kindly smile. It wasn't until after she said it that she realized there had to have been a better way to put it, lest the child not find her mother for a long time, or at all.  
  
Lena returned the smile, swiped at her crystalline tears, and nodded. Someone was going to help her search for the missing pieces of her life. 


	3. Chapter Two

"Mercury Rising: Keeping Hope Alive"  
  
By Astraea Silver  
  
Silver_Astraea@yahoo.com  
  
http://chezastraea.cjb.net/  
  
*CHAPTER TWO*  
  
"Up to another investigation, Gloria?" Roger and Gloria headed for the front door of the house in front of which they had just parked.  
  
"Certainly," Gloria replied confidently.  
  
Roger rang the doorbell and a woman who looked to be in her mid- thirties came to the door. "Good afternoon, ma'am," said Roger. "I'm Detective Roger Lowell, and this is my partner Detective Gloria. Are you Mrs. Sheridan?"  
  
Dorothy Sheridan was trembling, though it was undecided whether she was frightened, anxious, guilty, or none of the above. She calmed a little and nodded. "I am. Are.are you here.about Janelle?" she finally managed to utter, choking on each word as if they were venomous.  
  
Roger exchanged a look with Gloria. "That isn't what we were told."  
  
"Oh.then." Dorothy trailed off.  
  
"May we come in?" Roger asked kindly but persistently.  
  
With only a moment's hesitation to collect her bearings, Dorothy nodded again and opened the door wider to allow them to enter.  
  
"We're here concerning" -Roger consulted his clipboard as he stood in the front hall- "a child who's been missing for about twenty-six hours."  
  
"Oh, yes.yes," said Dorothy, still trembling, before calling her husband into the room. "Patrick," she continued, turning to her husband when he came to her, "this is Detective.Lowell and.Detective Gloria." She shakily indicated each of the visitors.  
  
Patrick acknowledged them with a polite nod.  
  
"Your daughter." Roger began.  
  
"Have you found Janelle yet?" Dorothy pleaded, sobbing. "Janelle.my dear Janelle. Please.tell me you've found her."  
  
Patrick put a supportive arm around his wife's shoulders and apologized to Roger and Gloria. "This has been a hard time for us.the last few days."  
  
"We understand," Gloria said quietly.  
  
Patrick turned again to Dorothy, who was now burying her face in her hands and leaning on his shoulder. "Honey, how about you go and.check on the turkey? I'll speak with the detectives."  
  
Dorothy nodded and departed, sniffling as she went into the next room.  
  
Patrick watched her leave and motioned for Roger and Gloria to sit on a sofa. "Have a seat and I'll tell you what you need to know."  
  
*  
  
"What should I do?" Monica sighed to herself. Her gaze shifted to Lena, who lay awake, sprawled out across the bench with her head in the angel's lap. "Father, please tell me what I should do."  
  
"This, I believe," said a masculine voice with a chuckle, "is what some might call a real Kodak moment."  
  
Monica looked up to see Andrew standing before her. Finding it surprisingly easy to resist asking him what he was doing here and where was he before, she replied, "Please, not now, Andrew. I'm not yet sure what this assignment is exactly, but I know it isn't a time for jokes."  
  
Andrew's smile faded as he sat beside Monica to the opposite side of Lena.  
  
"Did you say somethin' to me, Monica, or are you talkin' to yourself?" the girl asked though she didn't really seem to expect an answer. Instead she giggled, "Silly Monica," and shifted to another position.  
  
Monica gently brushed wisps of hair from Lena's face and turned to Andrew, suddenly unable to contain the query any longer. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I'm supposed to give you a message from Tess," Andrew explained awkwardly, apparently still not used to the idea of being a messenger for another angel. He was really a messenger of God, after all. "She and Gloria have work to do, and should be seeing you soon. Oh, and she also told me to give you this." He handed her a small business card with Tess's name on it and shrugged.  
  
Monica read the card, stuffed it into her pocket and sighed.  
  
"What's wrong?" asked Andrew.  
  
"I don't know what I'm doing," she said wearily. "Tess couldn't tell me much and now she won't be here. You don't have further instructions for me, do you?"  
  
Andrew shook his head. "Sorry." He peered over at the child. "Seems tired but unable to fall asleep, doesn't she?"  
  
"I wasn't certain of what happened before I arrived.I don't want her to fall asleep. She may go into a coma, and then what would I do?"  
  
"Maybe that's what she's supposed to do," Andrew said thoughtfully.  
  
"Andrew!" Monica gasped.  
  
"Oh, no, no.I meant go to sleep." He glanced at Lena again before continuing. "Sleeping gives bodies and souls the chance to recuperate, and a chance to dream. I have a feeling she could use both."  
  
Monica nodded and whispered to Lena, "You can sleep now, love. You can rest."  
  
"I can't fall asleep. Can you sing me a lullaby?" Lena whimpered. "I think I like lullabies."  
  
Monica looked to Andrew, an expression which read 'this must be a joke' on her face.  
  
Andrew responded with one that said 'should I leave?' and figured he sort of deserved the glare he received in return.  
  
"I'm not much of a singer," Monica admitted to Lena.  
  
"Tell her a story," suggested Andrew. "Kids love 'em. And it doesn't matter if you're tone-deaf, either."  
  
Monica ignored that last part and whispered, "I can't do that. Besides, she probably wouldn't like that any more than she would like my singing."  
  
"Then can you tell me a story?" Lena piped up, not even having physically heard the previous conversation. "I don't even feel like sleepin', but I'm kinda bored."  
  
Monica looked from the girl to the angel beside her. "Andrew, you know I just speak the truth."  
  
"So tell her a true story," Andrew insisted, now informed there was a particular point to this and that he was in the process of stumbling onto it. "You could tell one that's similar to this situation. You've met lots of kids on the streets or that were lost before. In fact, if I recall correctly," he said as he studied his surroundings, "one took place not all that far from here."  
  
Monica swallowed uncomfortably. "I'd rather not."  
  
"You know which I mean, don't you?" Andrew smiled, beginning to feel something like Tess. "I'm sure there's a good reason. And it's your choice, Monica, but I think you'll do what you know you must do."  
  
Monica sighed once again and watched Lena shift on the bench, but when she turned back, Andrew was nowhere to be found.  
  
"You'd rather not do what?" Lena asked, sitting up.  
  
"Lena, I." But Monica could not bring herself to the words that would begin her saga, and may not have even been able to had she known Andrew was lingering nearby for the final part of his report for Tess. "Lena.if you aren't tired.I think we should take a walk." 


	4. Chapter Three

"Mercury Rising: Keeping Hope Alive"  
  
By Astraea Silver  
  
Silver_Astraea@yahoo.com  
  
http://chezastraea.cjb.net/  
  
  
  
*CHAPTER THREE*  
  
"We don't have much time to chat; I'm expecting a visitor any minute now," Tess explained, having just stopped pacing when Andrew appeared in the room. "So, how's Angel Girl doing?"  
  
Andrew hesitated and fidgeted to buy a little time. "Well, Tess." he began, then paused and tried again. "She.uh. Monica."  
  
"Well, she what? Spit it out, Andrew, or-Father forgive me-you might find that halo of yours around your neck," she warned playfully yet sternly.  
  
The Angel of Death tugged at his shirt collar and cleared his throat nervously. He knew Tess really meant business this time, and if there was one thing that was usually missing from Tess's cosmic character, it had to be patience.  
  
Taking a breath, he said quickly, "She'll be okay. Good news is she wants to see you and Gloria." He forced a smile to accompany this.  
  
"I'm not surprised, but. Good news, huh?" Tess eyed him suspiciously. "And the bad news would be.?"  
  
He was trapped. He couldn't lie; he couldn't shave off half the truth and hand her the finished product. "She needs time. I think she's a little overwhelmed with the mystery behind this all and the sudden connections to.well, you know, but I'm certain she'll make the right decision."  
  
"I know. I am, too," Tess uttered. "It's just that I don't know how much time we have and."  
  
Just then, there came a knock at the door.  
  
"Sorry, baby. I've work to do."  
  
Andrew briefly bowed his head before vanishing, as Tess opened the door to her temporary office for Patrick Sheridan.  
  
"I'm sorry, Tess," he said as he entered. "We think Dorothy left her reading glasses here today."  
  
"Oh, yes, of course." The senior angel went to her desk, retrieved the glasses from where she had set them down earlier, and handed them to Patrick. "You know, any time you or Dorothy need to talk to me, you just call, all right?"  
  
"Sure. Thanks." He seemed to be in a hurry to leave, although he paused at the door and finally turned to face Tess again. "Say, Tess.do you like turkey?"  
  
*  
  
"Thank you for the pretzel," said Lena as she and Monica threw away the napkins from their snacks.  
  
"You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it." Monica smiled and took the child's hand.  
  
Lena grinned. "I was hungry."  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised if you hadn't eaten for a little while before now," said Monica, wondering just how long Lena had been laying in the snow.  
  
"I wouldn't know," Lena replied simply. "I don't remember."  
  
They grew quiet as they each sat on a swing.  
  
"Lena." Monica said, finally breaking the silence. "Are you sure you don't remember?"  
  
"What do you mean?" The innocence in the little voice was almost unbearable.  
  
"I mean-"  
  
"Watch out!" someone cried, and within a heartbeat a football came flying towards Lena, just missing her as she let out a short, high-pitched scream.  
  
The man that had yelled to them jogged over quickly. "I'm so sorry," he apologized, going to fetch the ball and indicating Lena, who seemed to be nothing short of paranoid. "I hope she's okay. I'm really very sorry."  
  
Monica comforted Lena and smiled to the man as politely as possible, considering her small friend was nearly paralyzed in fear. "She'll be all right."  
  
"I.I." Lena stuttered. "I'm fine, Mister. Thank you."  
  
The man smiled and patted her head before leaving.  
  
When he was gone, Lena stared at the ground and said, "I'm sorry."  
  
"For what?" Monica asked in surprise.  
  
"Getting scared like that," said Lena, her eyes still fixated on the dirt below.  
  
"Oh, Lena, that's nothing to be sorry for," Monica assured her. "Everyone is afraid sometimes."  
  
"Really?" Lena wiped her eyes and faced the angel, who nodded. "What are you afraid of?" she asked curiously.  
  
"Well." Monica began. "I used to not like water all that much."  
  
"Why not? Water is fun, and wet, and splashy!" giggled Lena.  
  
Monica shrugged. "I don't really mind it now, but there was a time that I avoided it. But keeping your fears at bay doesn't make them vanish altogether."  
  
"I don't like snow. Snow is cold and then it disappears. It's scary," said Lena. "And I don't like being alone. That's scary, too."  
  
"No one is ever alone," Monica told her.  
  
"I wasn't alone. But one day no one wanted me and I was alone. And then you wanted me." Lena's eyes resembled those of a sad, lost puppy. It was absolutely heart wrenching.  
  
"Lena." Monica sighed. "I'm staying with you until.you no longer need me," she said, trying not to remake the mistake of promising to find anyone in particular. "And you are never alone, and you are always wanted. God loves all of His children.God loves you."  
  
Lena was quiet for a moment. "Can I live with God, then?"  
  
"God is everywhere, Lena," replied Monica. "He is with you now, but you will meet Him face-to-face when it is time. For now, He wants you to live upon the Earth."  
  
"Well, I guess if God cares that much." Lena began to pump her legs to go higher on the swing.  
  
Monica gazed blankly at the part of the park in her view.  
  
"Watch this, Monica! Look! Look at me!" cried Lena, swinging higher with a silly grin.  
  
"Lena, how do you remember what you do, but nothing else?" Monica asked, just loud enough for the girl to hear her.  
  
Still swinging, Lena replied, "Dunno. Just do. When you talk it reminds me of things. Some thin's I feel like I'm s'posed to remember, but that I don't think I would if you didn't say anythin'. Watch this!"  
  
"Lena, I think that's enough, now, love!" called Monica, realizing how far from the ground Lena was going.  
  
"Wee!" Without warning, Lena jumped as the swing was at its highest.  
  
Monica yelped and lunged out to the girl.  
  
Squealing in delight, Lena plopped into the arms of Andrew, who had approached them, unnoticed. "Thanks, Mister!" Lena chirped and turned to Monica. "Boy, Monica! That was fun! Wanna see me do it again?"  
  
"No," Monica said quickly, trying not to sound cross. "I believe you've had enough excitement for one day. Perhaps we should continue that walk." Actually aware of Andrew for the first time since Lena almost frightened her half to death, she offered a weary glance, thanked him, and took Lena's hand as they went off.  
  
"Wait," Andrew called.  
  
Monica turned, having a feeling about what Andrew was going to say. She looked around and spotted a sandbox that looked about as safe as a playground toy could get, even for a mischievous child like Lena. She directed Lena to play for a moment, giving her a few basic safety precautions and finishing them off with "Nothing in this park other than pretzels is meant for eating," before they departed. Hardly taking her eyes off of Lena, Monica met Andrew at half the distance between them.  
  
"You haven't started, have you?" he asked knowingly.  
  
"Started what?" replied Monica, appearing as innocent as possible.  
  
"Monica, come on." Andrew urged. "There's a good reason you're here for her now. You know something that can help her."  
  
"You were there too," she reminded him. "Why don't you just tell her?"  
  
"I wasn't there the whole time," said Andrew. "Besides, I think it could do you both some good to hear it."  
  
"But she's so young." Monica had yet to cease keeping a close eye on Lena. "She won't be able to understand it or deal with it."  
  
"She won't, or you won't?" Andrew looked at her seriously, although she only watched Lena make some unidentifiable sand structure with another child.  
  
Monica cleared her throat quietly, glancing at him for but a moment. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"I don't have to answer that, you know." Andrew sighed. "We're all frustrated and confused. Maybe we aren't as lost as she is, but this is something of a maze for each of us." He paused and took out his gold pocket- watch. "I just hope I'm not here on.strict business." With a click he closed the watch and restored it to his jacket.  
  
It was no mystery to Monica what her friend had meant by that. She knew Andrew was honored to be an Angel of Death, but he really didn't like when he had to come for young children. What if.  
  
"What is it about that time that disturbs you so much?" Andrew broke into her thoughts, yet only momentarily.  
  
Monica stood silently, her eyes following Lena's every movement as the man from earlier set down the football and sat beside the sandbox to play with his son, who had joined Lena and her playmate in building what now appeared to be something like a sandcastle.  
  
"Hello?" Andrew arched his eyebrow curiously. "Monica, yoo-hoo.hello?"  
  
"What?" Monica blinked and shook, a little startled.  
  
Andrew's brow raised further with concern. "Monica.you aren't.becoming attached, are you?"  
  
Monica shook her head with a laugh. "Of course not. I just love children, you know." Satisfied with her answer, at least for the most part, Andrew decided to get the conversation back on track. "You don't want to remember that day. Why? It was.what? Nineteen.twenty years ago?" Andrew sighed, seeing Monica was hardly paying attention again. "Hey," he said, gently putting his hand on her shoulder to wake her up at least long enough for him to speak once more. "I'll come back later. Remember, though. Twenty years.and whether or not you can bear to resurrect that dusty memory of yours will make a difference." And on that note, he left once again. 


	5. Chapter Four

"Mercury Rising: Keeping Hope Alive"  
  
By Astraea Silver  
  
Silver_Astraea@yahoo.com  
  
http://chezastraea.cjb.net/  
  
  
  
*CHAPTER FOUR*  
  
"Dinner was lovely," said Tess as she dabbed at her lips with a napkin and smiled politely across the table to Patrick and Dorothy.  
  
"Janelle's favorite.was always.turkey," Dorothy choked out, her voice scarcely a whisper. She stared without blinking at a random place in the room.  
  
Patrick took her hand comfortingly, not knowing what to say or what else he could do.  
  
"Dorothy," Tess stated firmly, but Patrick put a hand up gently to stop her from speaking, though it took Tess some effort to contain herself.  
  
"I'm sorry, Tess, not yet. I know you're the expert, but. Not yet. I don't think she." Patrick trailed off. He turned back to his wife. "Why don't you go lie down? I'll take care of the dishes. You really need your rest."  
  
Dorothy nodded numbly, stood, and made her way from the dining room to their bedroom upstairs.  
  
Patrick sighed after she had gone.  
  
"You're certainly handling this well," Tess commented, eyeing him. "You're supportive of your wife during this difficult time and I think that's wonderful, but.I think she needs to talk about this, and so do you. You can't go on like this forever. And you deserve the chance to grieve, as well."  
  
"I know, Tess. It just.hurts." His voice lowered conspicuously at the word. "I.I guess not bothering to try to convince her of the truth simply makes it easier not to remember for myself."  
  
"Sometimes," said Tess, "you just want to force the memories away, huh?"  
  
Patrick nodded shyly. "I don't usually talk much, Tess.but I had thought it would be good for you to be here for Dorothy. She would get the family talking at dinnertime, but now."  
  
"So why couldn't I talk to her?" Tess demanded, using everything in her not to sound gruff.  
  
"I had thought wrong."  
  
*  
  
"Look, look!" Lena cried, jumping up from where she was playing and racing over to Monica. "Come and see!" She eagerly tugged at Monica's hand and led her back to the sandbox.  
  
"Oh, did you make this?" Monica asked her with a smile, not really feigning her amazement, now that the structure in progress was more than a lump of sand.  
  
Lena nodded gleefully. "Uh-huh, me and Molly and Travis!" She grinned. "Oh, and Travis's daddy helped, too!"  
  
Monica smiled to the two children and one adult, pleased Lena was making friends despite the day's conflict, and each new acquaintance smiled or waved in return.  
  
"Can I play with them some more? Pretty please?" Lena begged, displaying her best 'sad puppy face', topped off with clasped hands.  
  
"Sure you can," replied Monica, who was a little relieved that she'd have a legitimate excuse for not telling her story to Lena, even if she did feel a bit guilty about it.  
  
"Yay!" the kids cheered in unison.  
  
"Travis, can we play with the football?" Lena asked.  
  
Travis looked to his father for approval, which was soon granted and the three ran off to play.  
  
Again, Monica watched Lena closely.  
  
"Cute kid," Travis's father commented, also watching the children run around as Travis made an honest attempt to get Lena and Molly to comprehend the sport.  
  
Monica nodded in response but realized she may have seemed unfriendly not to say anything. "My name is Monica," she introduced herself, extending her hand.  
  
He shook it warmly and replied in a gentle voice, "Victor." After a moment he continued, "She's so polite. You must be proud."  
  
"She isn't my daughter; we aren't related," Monica explained, keeping her words in check so she didn't reveal her angelic identity. "I'm just taking care of her temporarily."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized. "The way you act together.and then you look a little like family."  
  
Monica saw what he meant. It was true, they both had soft brown eyes and Lena's hair was like a lighter shade of her own. And she had to admit; she did act a bit maternal with all children, so his error was understandable.  
  
Still, it made her think. She hadn't thought she was 'becoming attached' to Lena, as Andrew had put it, but she had been wrong before. So she decided then and there that she'd keep her duties in mind and put in the extra effort to remain focused.  
  
He cleared his throat, having finally resolved to tell her the last of his reasoning. "And.that's what she told me."  
  
"I'll have to talk to her," Monica unintentionally thought aloud, and her mind wandered.  
  
"I think it's good for children to have adults to play with, whether it's their parents or not," Victor said, bringing Monica back to the present. He chuckled. "Kind of like a big kid. Knows where the cookies are hiding but won't always tell. Knows the rules to every game, and seems to be able to find out just when the rules change." He sighed and Monica thought he was about to cry in any moment.  
  
"Are you all right?" she asked as politely as she could.  
  
Victor nodded slowly. "Just.the rules changed. My wife...she used to play with Travis all the time. She was diagnosed with cancer a few years ago and.and fought it.and now.it's back."  
  
"I'm so sorry," Monica said sympathetically. An idea came to her and she added, "Pardon me.but if you or your wife would like to talk to anyone, I know an excellent therapist. She's a good friend of mine." From her pocket she removed the card Andrew had given her earlier and handed it to Victor. "She's a wonderful listener, so even if you aren't much for therapy, I think you'd still like her."  
  
"Thank you," said Victor, accepting the card and reading it before placing it in his own pocket. As he did so, he noticed his wristwatch. "Sorry, Monica, but I have to go. Thanks again for the card. I think I'll give Tess a call. Take care."  
  
"Bye," she called, before Victor went to get Travis and the two left the park.  
  
As a parent came for Molly, Monica went to Lena. Not wanting to startle her, she said gently, "Lena, can we talk a bit?"  
  
Lena shrugged. "Yeah, sure."  
  
They walked over to a bench and sat down together.  
  
"I'll tell you a story; is that okay?" Monica asked, though she knew she was eventually going to have to say it whether it was 'okay' or not.  
  
Lena nodded, yawning exhaustedly after running around like she did. She rested her head on Monica's shoulder and rubbed her now heavy eyelids.  
  
"Well," Monica began, mustering her thoughts along with the strength and courage to remember. "It was the first snow of the season, a bright Sunday afternoon, and all the local children were out making snowmen and snow- angels" - she chuckled at this briefly - "and ice-skating and playing all sorts of winter games." But before she could continue, she felt the weight of Lena's body against her and she realized she had finally fallen asleep. Sighing-because, after all, no matter how reluctantly, she was about to get this assignment going-Monica wrapped a loving, protective arm around the child, whose only sound was her soft, rhythmic breathing.  
  
In some ways, she was pleased that she didn't have to tell any more, but then she also wanted to get it over with. Besides, every moment she spent with Lena somehow made her love her more, and it was a warm feeling in the midst of the cold.  
  
*LENA'S DREAM*  
  
"Hurry, now, Lena," her father called, carrying a few wrapped gifts under one arm. "They're waiting for us."  
  
Lena hopped out of the family car, grasping her father's free hand and still bouncing along merrily. Her mother and elder sister trailed behind in a reserved manner, bringing a dessert and a couple of other packages. Together the foursome stood on the long front porch as Lena's father rang the bell and an elderly woman answered the door.  
  
"They're here! They're here!" she called over her shoulder, opening the door for them. "My! Look how you've grown!" she cooed to the girls, kissing each on the cheek.  
  
"Grandpa!" cried the children as an older man came in and swept them into his arms.  
  
"My little sprouts!" he responded, hugging them before setting them down. "Well, not so little anymore, eh?" He put his hand on top of Lena's head horizontally and evenly measured it to his waist, and everyone laughed.  
  
"Nope, not anymore!" Lena echoed. "I'm a big sprout now! I'll show you Gran'pa, just you wait an' see! I can't wait to show you! But you can't see it 'til Christmas!"  
  
Lena's sister smiled, standing quietly beside her mother.  
  
Their father chuckled. "No one can see until Christmas, except for the girls, that is."  
  
"Those two have been inseparable since they were just seeds!" joked their grandfather, winking at his granddaughters. "Now look at the beautiful flowers blossoming in their Grandpa's garden! And in winter, no less!"  
  
*END LENA'S DREAM* 


	6. Chapter Five

"Mercury Rising: Keeping Hope Alive"  
  
By Astraea Silver  
  
Silver_Astraea@yahoo.com  
  
http://chezastraea.cjb.net/  
  
  
  
* By the way, this chapter is the reason for the story's rating, because of mild language and violence (not descriptive, so don't worry if you're squeamish).  
  
  
  
*CHAPTER FIVE*  
  
Dorothy awoke and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. A soft sobbing brought her fully back to consciousness and she sat up in bed as she realized her husband was weeping beside her.  
  
"Patrick?" she said, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder to ease him from his restless slumber. "Shh, honey, it's okay. Everything's okay."  
  
She found it ironic that these words managed to reach her tongue, since she had really been the one enduring sleepless nights of tears recently, and her husband had been the one to comfort and reassure her. However, she reasoned, Patrick had to have been hurting, too, and there would eventually come a time when he could no longer contain his injured spirit. And so the time had come.  
  
"I know," Patrick responded in a hushed tone, though he also felt the disbelief after his own statement.  
  
Dorothy pulled him to herself and hugged him soothingly. "It hurts to remember, doesn't it?" she asked after a minute.  
  
Patrick nodded and swallowed. "Yeah." Then he added, "Look.I'm sorry I wasn't always there for you these last few days. I guess I didn't want to talk about it. If I don't think about pain, it goes away.you know?"  
  
"It doesn't work that way, dear," Dorothy said quietly. "You know that. We need to deal with this; we can't avoid it for the rest of our lives. What lives would we have, anyway, if we didn't at least try to overcome this? We will get through it. Together."  
  
Patrick nodded again. He pulled away from Dorothy and met her eyes with his, feeling that perhaps she was ready to begin their possibly long journey to recovery. "There is one thing that we need to talk about, though. We need to identify just what we're going to get through."  
  
*  
  
Lena cried out, her thoughts and emotions in turmoil as she escaped the shadowy clutches of a mysterious nightmare.  
  
Monica, had she not been beside Lena already, would have been there in an instant. She sweetly calmed Lena and offered her a warm smile and hug.  
  
"I had a bad dream," Lena whimpered between sniffles.  
  
Remembering that Andrew seemed to sense Lena needed to dream, Monica asked, "Would you like to tell me about it?"  
  
The little girl rubbed her eyes and yawned. "Actually, I'd just like to go back to sleep. Will you wake me in the morning?"  
  
"Sure I will," Monica replied. "Good night." The words had barely left her lips before she saw Lena's eyes close and felt the child's weight against her again. She sighed, almost wishing she could sleep as well, but knowing that she was an angel and most of the time, angels didn't need to do so. Planting a kiss from Heaven on Lena's forehead, Monica awaited the sunrise of a new day's dawn.  
  
*  
  
Roger panted as he reached the front door to his house, having just finished his early morning jog.  
  
It wasn't as cold as it had been the day before, but hardly warm enough to melt much more than a square inch of snow.  
  
Entering his home, Roger wiped his sweaty face with a handkerchief and eased into an armchair. He exhaled and closed his eyes exhaustedly.  
  
"Roger," a pleasant voice echoed throughout his mind. "Don't be afraid, Roger. Don't be afraid."  
  
His eyes flashed open again, but he found that this time the voice didn't go away when he forced himself back into reality.  
  
"You know who you are, Roger... I know who you are... And God knows who you are. Don't be afraid."  
  
As if on impulse, he shot out of the chair and raced to get ready and leave for work.  
  
*  
  
"We decided we needed to clarify just what we were dealing with," Patrick explained to Tess as they sat once again in the lounge-like therapist's office. "And we were hoping you could help us."  
  
"That's what I'm here for, baby," Tess replied, contently yet firmly. "Dorothy?"  
  
Dorothy was dazed, but she made the effort to pull herself back. "Y- yes?"  
  
"Have you come to terms with your situation?" asked Tess. "According to what your husband told me, it has been four days."  
  
"Four days." Dorothy repeated. "Yes, four. Four days."  
  
"Since what, baby? Can you tell me what happened?"  
  
"Four days," Dorothy said again, her frozen gaze suggesting her mind had gone on vacation. "Four. Four days."  
  
"Do you remember, Dorothy?" Tess continued. "You want to remember, don't you?"  
  
*  
  
"That story that you were tellin' me last night.what was it?" Lena inquired, taking a bite out of her breakfast: park specialty, another pretzel.  
  
Monica summoned a smile, though she felt like doing anything but. "A true one."  
  
"You mean it's somethin' that really happened?"  
  
Monica nodded. "Yes, it is."  
  
"Can you finish it?" Lena requested. "I'd like to hear it, and I'm awake now."  
  
"I suppose so," said Monica, gathering her memories once more as they walked beneath the bare trees. "The first snow of the season," she recapped from what she had said before, "and this was about twenty years ago, by the way, years before you were born. At the time I was in Search and Rescue, a division of my work which.obviously.deals with finding people and helping them.  
  
"I watched the children having fun in the snow. I knew I wasn't where I was supposed to be, that I was stalling, but I couldn't help it. It was refreshing to see them running around and laughing and playing. Then, I saw one boy - maybe a young teen - seemed to have fainted while crossing the road, and he looked tired, so he was taking a little while to stand. He didn't see a car coming towards him, so I ran out to him, grabbed him, and got him to the other side just before the car passed."  
  
Lena listened intently, and Monica took a moment to catch a much-desired breath. "Then what happened?" Lena asked, now hungry for something other than food; neither of which the pretzel could really satisfy.  
  
"He was too stunned to say anything; he just sat by the side of the road with his mouth open in disbelief. Finally he ran off, and I figured that was the last I'd see of him. I was a little disappointed, because I was beginning to want to speak to the people I helped, which was never really an option." Monica paused again, noting that she was about to sway off topic and that she had to prevent that if she wanted to get this over with. "I watched as the boy stumbled over to a man who yelled at him and hurried him into a truck. But I had to leave, and so I did."  
  
"Who was the man?" Lena piped up, following as best she could for her youth.  
  
"I'm getting there." Monica had to smile at Lena's childlike interest and eagerness. "Well, I was later instructed to go to a cabin several towns away from that road. As it turned out, that's exactly where I found the boy. No more than a day or two had passed since I last saw him, but he had gotten considerably thinner.or perhaps it was just more conspicuous then. And his face - poor dear - his face looked even more pale and frightened than it had before."  
  
*FLASHBACK*  
  
"Look what I made, Luke!" The nine-year-old girl held up her latest drawing in pride.  
  
"Nice," Luke replied, somewhat trying to sound sophisticated despite being an uneducated adolescent.  
  
"I'll show Robert when he comes back!" the girl exclaimed with a grin.  
  
"Robert isn't coming back, Kerry," said Luke.  
  
"Well, of course he is, silly! And my name isn't Kerry, it's Karen!"  
  
"It's Kerry now, remember? And keep it down!" he scolded. "If my Dad knew you were-."  
  
"Robert!" Kerry squealed, jumping up from her seat to give a 'welcome home' hug to the boy who had just entered. "Wait 'til you see what I made!"  
  
The boy was the one Monica had saved on the road all but a day earlier, only now his cheek sported a red mark from where the man had apparently slapped him.  
  
"I take care of you, and you damn well know it! I feed and clothe and shelter all of ya, and how do you repay me? You run off! You go and hitchhike your way to some godforsaken highway, who-knows-how-many-miles away! And then you nearly kill yourself, for Christ's sake! What the hell were you thinking?" The man continued to banter to no one in particular as he made his way to the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of beer, and settled with it before the television screen.  
  
Monica, a gold aura of the Lord's light shining about her though it was as invisible to the present humans as was she, knelt down beside the area Kerry had just occupied. She gently picked up a scrawny crayon from the floor and placed it on the coffee table, then observed the remainder of her surroundings. It was then that she recognized Robert, the young teen from the previous experience. She watched him and frowned as she noticed the mark from the slap, and then again when she saw the man remove the beer from the fridge. Just what was going on?  
  
Kerry returned to her spot on the floor near the coffee table, pulling Robert's hand as she went. "Wait 'til you see, Robert! I'm so glad you came back. If you didn't, I might've not gotten to show you before I go home."  
  
"You are home. Home sweet home." Luke interjected half-heartedly.  
  
"No, I'm not, silly! I live in a blue house with my mommy and daddy and baby brother and kitty-cat, Figaro." Kerry counted off each memorable figure from her home on her fingers.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ker, but I don't think." Luke sighed.  
  
"We're on vacation, right, Robert?" asked Kerry. "Luke's daddy wanted us to stay with him for a bit in this cabin, and soon he'll take us home to our dads and moms."  
  
"Eight years is a bit of a long vacation, huh, Robert?" Luke snorted.  
  
Robert's expression stiffened as he murmured just loud enough for the older boy to hear, "So is sixteen." Pushing past the now downcast Luke and taking Kerry's hand, he said, "Come on, Kerry. I'll tuck you in."  
  
Monica watched the comments spill, one after the other, and then as if it had been that way forever, only she and Luke occupied the room. She contemplated possible actions, but her thoughts were disrupted when the semi-drunken man stumbled back into the room, taking his sudden anger and frustration out on various furniture and appliances.  
  
Then, calmly but still heatedly, he called, "Okay, kids. We're going on another trip."  
  
Luke jumped up, backing away cautiously, and not realizing he had gone closer to the horrified angel.  
  
"Where are Robert and Kerry?" the man grunted.  
  
Wordlessly, Luke indicated the hall that led to the bedrooms, and exhaled slightly when the man stomped off in that direction.  
  
"Let's go," the man ordered as he entered Kerry's room, where Robert was covering her with a blanket. "Hurry. We're leaving." Without saying anything more, he left for his own room to pack.  
  
"Where are we going?" Kerry asked Robert. Her eyes lit up and Robert winced at what he knew he was about to hear. "He's taking us home, isn't he?" It was more of an exclamation than a question. There wasn't enough doubt in her voice to make it audibly resemble a question.  
  
"I don't know, Kerry." Robert uttered. "I think we're just going to continue our vacation somewhere else." How could he explain it to her?  
  
Kerry shrugged and hopped out of bed. She scurried into the living room and collected her few crayons and paper, all the while chattering to Luke about how she couldn't wait for him to meet her family and "the cutest kitty-cat you'll ever see".  
  
Not much later, the three kids stood together in the living room as the man finished getting ready, remarks about "good-for-nothing authorities" and "nosy tabloids" shooting from his mouth like bullets. He took so long, though, that they finally suspected he had dozed off in result of the alcohol.  
  
"I can't wait for you to meet everyone!" Kerry babbled on to the teenage boys who had become brothers to her within the week she had been with them. "My daddy likes baseball, but I'm not a very good pitcher-er. Maybe you guys can play with him, and all of you can teach me, too!"  
  
"Stop it!" Luke finally cried, unable to take any more. "You are not going home, Kerry! Don't you get it? Robert and I have been with my Dad for longer than you have! He takes us all over the country place to place, to prevent his being caught! He kidnapped you, Kerry! He took you from your folks and your cat and your little blue house! And you know what? He never planned to bring you back!"  
  
"Luke," Robert hissed. "Don't tell her that! She needs to have hope that she's going to see her family again. We all do."  
  
"Hope?" spat Luke. "I had hope, back when I was a kid. I knew this guy wasn't my real father; I don't know how; I just did. But I grew up. No one came for me. He was the only one who wanted me. He took care of me. Sure he got drunk a few times, but he became my family. So you want hope? Hope that after the eight years you haven't played catch with your old man, after the eight years you haven't put your arms around your mama, you'll find the magic golden bridge to your home and see your parents again and live 'happily ever after'?"  
  
"Luke," pleaded Robert, "things can get better."  
  
"Not fast enough," Luke muttered. "My blood's boiling, kid, like the lava of hell. The mercury's rising, and now that the heat is on, there ain't nothing that'll keep the glass from shattering."  
  
"The three of us," said Robert, "we can get away."  
  
"Like you did today?" Luke asked sharply. "Oops. Sorry, I forgot. You didn't make it more than a few cities away before you were dragged right back to this delightful piece of paradise. And now - lucky us - we get to see another fancy resort. I do hope the next one will have a nice view of the terrace overlooking the beach, don't you?"  
  
Robert inhaled intensely as Luke went to the hall closet and removed a handgun from the shelf.  
  
"Too bad I won't be seeing it, huh?" Luke turned the firearm over in his hands, as if inspecting it. "Ha, look," he added, though it was obvious he found nothing funny, nor did anyone else. "He must be my father after all. He was dumb enough to leave it loaded."  
  
Kerry watched in silence, unable to speak and barely able to comprehend what was unfolding before her.  
  
Monica thought this might be the reason she was here - to save Luke - but she knew if he chose to take his own life, she couldn't interfere and rob him of his free will, no matter how badly she wanted to do so. She stood beside him with a gentle hand on his shoulder, thinking she might echo Robert's words as he tried to convince his friend not to carry out his plans.  
  
But then Monica saw Kerry, huddled in the corner, terrified as it was already. Still invisible to Kerry, or so she thought, she went to her and guided her out of the room. There she revealed herself as an angel, to which the girl responded with immediate belief and lack of fear, and convinced Kerry to color a picture for her.  
  
"Please, Luke," Robert continued, back in the living room. "There is hope. There's God, too. He's looking out for us; I just know it. He wants us to live. I.I was so tired and hungry by the time I reached the highway that I was almost hit by a car and didn't even realize it until afterwards. I must admit, it did look a little tempting compared to Chez Dump, but then out of nowhere someone pushed me aside. They saved me, and I think that despite everything, I still have something to live for, Luke. God has a plan for me, for all of us, and I have faith in His plan. We can live. Hope can live, Luke, as long as there are people to keep it that way."  
  
Luke held the gun carefully in one hand as he applauded mockingly. "That was one hell of a sermon, kid." He looked back down at the gun. "Well, sure, Robert," Luke said dully, now bringing the pistol to the side of his head. "Long live the hope.and may God be with you. At least now I know I'll be with Him.or.at least we'll find out if I will."  
  
And as the shot echoed throughout the house, everyone who witnessed the suicide felt his or her emotions in turmoil. Roger nearly fainted, having seen it first-hand. Kerry screamed and clutched Monica. The kidnapper, who apparently had indeed fallen asleep, awoke into a fit of swearing. Monica gasped and wept; terrified at the thought of what had just happened and that there may have been something she could've done to prevent it. Then she recognized Andrew as the Angel of Death who had come to take Luke Home.  
  
*END FLASHBACK*  
  
"Luke went to live with God?" Lena asked, allowing her tears to fall freely now, mostly because she had been sobbing too much to care. The end of Monica's story had been so dramatic that Lena forgot she was going to question the part about the angels. Or she already believed.  
  
Monica nodded sadly, attempting to hold back the tears that formed out of her feelings of sorrow, sympathy and guilt, but failing miserably. "Yes, he did."  
  
"Why can't I live with God, too?" Lena whimpered. "Or with you?"  
  
"Because.somewhere.you have someone who cares about you, who wants you to be with them now," replied Monica, knowing it was true.  
  
"Don't you want me with you? Don't you like me?" Lena asked.  
  
Monica tried to smile. "Of course I do, but you belong with your family, and.I can't be one to you."  
  
"You don't really care, do you?" cried Lena, much to Monica's confusion, but the girl continued without allowing Monica to defend herself. "I thought you cared, I did! And.if you don't, and my real family doesn't care enough to find me, then I guess there's only One who still does!" Then Lena ran off, rendering the angel speechless, awestruck, and fearful for her young new friend. 


	7. Chapter Six

"Mercury Rising: Keeping Hope Alive"  
  
By Astraea Silver  
  
Silver_Astraea@yahoo.com  
  
http://chezastraea.cjb.net/  
  
  
  
*CHAPTER SIX*  
  
"Roger, we've got a lead! Let's go!" Gloria called as she rushed into the office.  
  
Roger was seated behind the desk with his head in his hands. The mysterious voice still made its way into his mind, and he couldn't help but weep now that visions and flashbacks occupied his thoughts as well.  
  
"Roger?" Gloria adjusted her glasses, looking concerned. "Is something wrong?"  
  
The detective shook his head and blew his nose into a tissue. "Fine, fine. You say we've got a lead? Great, let's get to it."  
  
Gloria frowned, but nodded.  
  
In the car, Gloria decided she needed to get him talking while she had the chance.  
  
"You're upset?" she asked from the passenger seat.  
  
Roger would have turned away, had he not been driving and thus unable to do so, unless he had a death wish. Instead he nodded in affirmation.  
  
"Why?" Gloria ventured to continue.  
  
"Long time ago. Look, we shouldn't talk about that now. We'll be there in maybe.five minutes, tops."  
  
"I think we should, and a lot can happen in five minutes." Gloria sighed, trying to come up with something witty to say. What would her experienced friends do? Tess would give the man a lecture, Monica might request they talk it out in a coffee shop, and Andrew would emotionally describe just how short life is, and then probably spook him something awful by telling him just what kind of angel he was. Gloria, on the other hand, normally worried people enough as it was with her unbelievable intelligence and yet poor understanding of speaking figuratively.  
  
"Oh, I get it. You're a detective and a part-time psychiatrist, huh?"  
  
Gloria shook her head slowly. "I do serve a sort of agency, but not the one you're thinking of. I am a full-time angel, Roger, and I serve God, the ultimate agency of missing children." As she spoke, God's love began to radiate around her in a heavenly, golden glow. "He knows where the children are when their parents don't, when detectives, like yourself, don't."  
  
Roger, realizing the car had automatically stopped, looked at her and then at his surroundings. It was as if time had ceased to continue. Everyone on the streets around them was standing still, bathing in a bright light. But Roger did not seem overly fazed. "I.met an angel once.dark hair, dark eyes, told me her name was Monica."  
  
"Yes, she's a friend of mine," Gloria replied. "She was there to comfort you when you were younger, soon after she saved you. And as was she, I'm here to tell you that God loves you. And He wants you to stop running from your past, to face it, and to carry on with your future."  
  
Roger covered his face and wept.  
  
"Look at me, Roger," Gloria coaxed. When Roger finally did, she spoke again. "You had and still have a wonderful purpose in life. You bring lost children home to their families. You show them that there is hope. God has a plan for you, and you must have faith in His plan. Hope can live, as long as there are people to keep it alive."  
  
These words echoed in Roger's mind, only it was no longer in Gloria's voice, but his own: Hope can live, as long as there are people to keep it alive.  
  
"No!" he cried, breaking down though he fought himself not to do so. "Not again! Never again!"  
  
"That's what you told your friends, isn't it?" Gloria implied. "That there was still hope."  
  
"What hope?" muttered Roger. "I had hope, and so did Luke and so did Kerry. But let me tell you something, it sure died pretty quickly. Just like Luke. He was kidnapped as an infant and committed suicide when he was about seventeen. Didn't even know his real age, or his real name, or anything about his real family." Roger paused. "And I was taken as a six- year-old. Right off my own lawn, some guy snatched me and gave me a new name, new clothes, and a hair-job. I wasn't Roger anymore; I was Robert. And I didn't get away 'til I was eighteen. That's when I found out that two years earlier, both my parents died in a car accident. I had no other family, so I was on my own. And I no longer had hope."  
  
"You lost hope before then, didn't you?" Gloria asked quietly.  
  
"I didn't lose it," said Roger. "I gave it up. And I'm glad, 'cause it didn't do no good when I had it, anyway."  
  
Gloria pressed on. "After Luke died, everything went downhill. You and Kerry were still taken farther away, from place to place."  
  
"I still didn't see my family, my friends. My only friend was Kerry. The way Luke somehow managed to bond with the likes of that.beast.only our friendship was true. She was like a little sister to me."  
  
"But you didn't give up on friendship; you didn't give up on Kerry. And Kerry didn't give up on you, nor hope." Gloria felt she was reaching where she wanted to be in this mixed-up conversation, which had sounded like separate ones for a minute or two.  
  
"Kerry was the bravest little girl I've ever met," Roger reminisced. "She would fight 'til the end, though she didn't believe there would be one. An end to the world, that is. She knew we'd be safe someday. I mean, she knew. That was one thing she didn't even need hope for."  
  
"So she tried to give the hope to you, since you had doubts," added Gloria.  
  
"Yeah," Roger said, covering his face with his hands again.  
  
"God wants you to regain your hope, Roger." Gloria smiled. "You need to believe in something to be able to truly convince someone else, and one of the best gifts you can give to the lost children.is hope. Hope that you needed when you were lost, when Kerry and Luke were lost."  
  
"Kerry could still be lost.or dead," Roger replied woefully. "I don't know whatever happened to her."  
  
"Be it His will, you will know someday. But I think, especially in honor of your friends, you should carry on. There are many children out there who need you. And I believe it's time we go help one." The light around Gloria and the light outside the car gradually dimmed, and everything appeared normal once again.  
  
Roger nodded, started the car, and they were off.  
  
*  
  
Still Dorothy repeated, "Four days. Four days." as if chanting a magic spell. She had since begun to rock back and forth a bit, and when she wasn't 'chanting' she was humming a simple tune.  
  
Patrick held her hand and turned to Tess. "That's the song I usually sang to the kids. I think she's remembering."  
  
"Good," said Tess. "Maybe you could help her with the words and the personal sentiment of the song."  
  
Patrick nodded and faced Dorothy again. "I know a valley fair," he sang quietly, studying the effect.  
  
"Four days. Four days." Dorothy whimpered, rocking a little faster now despite the grip Patrick had on her. Then she cried out, "Janelle, Janelle!"  
  
*  
  
"Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name," Lena recited, climbing the hill with determined steps. When she reached the top she twirled around with outstretched arms and cried, "Hello, God! It's Lena! I'm ready! I'm ready to come Home now!"  
  
Monica, standing at the base of the hill from where Lena had just come, put her hand to her mouth as she heard Lena's cries and then caught sight of Andrew nearby.  
  
Andrew was looking at his pocket-watch. He closed it and returned Monica's worried expression with an uncertain but mournful one.  
  
"Lena!" Monica called out, racing up the hill.  
  
The girl didn't seem to hear her, and she stepped forward to the hill's other side, sliding down the slope the way Monica had gone down the other when she first found Lena in the snow. Lena fell to her knees at the bottom, but was laughing hysterically all the while. She stood and gazed out at the frozen lake.  
  
*FLASHBACK*  
  
"Who cares if we don't have our ice-skates!" Lena giggled. "Come on! It'll be fun! And Grams and Gran'pa won't mind! They always let us go on their lake, especially now that we're both big sprouts!"  
  
Her sister, the regular follower of the duo even though she was nearly a teen, looked unsure. "Well, okay, but be careful, and stay with me."  
  
"Yay!" Lena cheered. "Let's go!" Grabbing the other girl's hand, she went to jump out onto the ice.  
  
"Wait," her sister warned gently, holding Lena back. "We need to make sure it's frozen enough. It's been a little warm lately."  
  
Lena sighed impatiently. "Okay, then I'll be right back!"  
  
"Wait a minute." Her sister held her again and smiled. "I'm not sending you out there."  
  
"That's okay! I'll go on my own!" Lena chirped, sighing again as she was restrained once more.  
  
"No, Lena. You wait here, I'll test the ice, and if it's okay, we can play." After receiving a reluctant nod in response, the older girl stepped cautiously out onto the lake. "It looks good!" she called back after a minute, nodding in approval. "Come on out!"  
  
Lena squealed and hurried over to her sister, and they began dancing around together and giggling merrily. "Show me that move you're goin' to do for Mommy and Daddy and Grams and Gran'pa.please?" begged Lena.  
  
"I don't know if I can do it without real skates," said her sister. Seeing Lena's disappointment, she sighed and added, "But I guess I can give it a go." The two smiled and Lena clapped as the other girl directed her to wait there while she tried the move, a double-axle.  
  
"Yay! Go, go!" Lena called as she watched her sister go farther out onto the ice.  
  
However, before the jump could be made, the girl released a piercing scream as the ice shattered beneath her and she threw her hands into the air.  
  
"No!" Lena screamed, motionless and otherwise speechless. "No, no!"  
  
*END FLASHBACK*  
  
"No." Lena sulked, still standing at the edge of the lake. Her memory flashed in her mind, but she did not find it strange how suddenly she remembered almost every little detail about her life. "How could you leave? My own sister! I needed you! Why did you leave?" she wailed. "I hate ice. I hate when it melts.when it isn't frozen enough. It killed you. It wasn't strong enough and it killed you!" Lena collapsed to her knees and sobbed.  
  
"Andrew?" Monica asked, fearing what might be imminent.  
  
"I don't know about Lena." The Angel of Death shook his head slowly and sighed. "But I remember now. I took her sister Home four days ago."  
  
Lena rose from the ground and looked at the lake again. She suddenly looked calm as she began to speak to her sister, as if she knew she could hear her. "Does God sing to you now? Does He know the songs that Daddy knew? Does He bake cookies like Mommy always did.even the chocolate peanut butter kind?"  
  
Monica felt the tears run down her cheeks as she started down the hill, but the girl did not acknowledge her, to say the least.  
  
"I'd make cookies for you," said Lena, "but I'm not allowed to use the oven, and I don't have one right now anyway. But just in case He doesn't know the songs, I can still sing for you." Lena began to sing quietly as she stepped onto the lake: "I know a valley fair. Eileen Aroon. I know a cottage there. Eileen Aroon."  
  
*  
  
".Far in the valley shade, I know a tender maid. Flow'r of the hazel glade. Eileen Aroon." Patrick finished the song and looked again to Dorothy, who was still sobbing, but had at least stopped rocking.  
  
Hearing a yell outdoors, the three peered out the window. Dorothy became hysterical.  
  
"Janelle!" she screamed. "No, Janelle, no!" Before either Patrick or Tess could respond, Dorothy fled from the room, tore down the hall and down the steps, and ran as fast as her legs would allow to the lake outside.  
  
*  
  
"That's her!" Roger exclaimed in disbelief as he pulled up to the parking lot. "That's the kid!"  
  
Gloria smiled. "So it is! Missing for two days, but she's going home now."  
  
*  
  
"Lena! Lena, please!" Monica begged, standing helplessly in the snow beside the iced lake. "You'll find your way home, I know you will!"  
  
Lena stopped singing for the first time in the last ten minutes. She turned to Monica and grinned almost devilishly. "That's right, Monica. I'm goin' Home. I'm goin' to see my Father, and I'm goin' ice-skatin' with my sister. You can come and watch if you'd like. She does a great double- axle."  
  
Monica shivered and caught her breath. "Lena, I know you miss your family and you feel alone right now, but this is not the answer. I told you I'd stay with you until you found your family. I'd like to keep my promise."  
  
"Silly Monica; silly angel," said Lena. "Buh-bye, angel. See you in Heaven." She stepped backwards and further onto the lake. "Hello, God! Hello, Janelle! I'm comin'! Wait for me! I'm comin' Home!"  
  
"Janelle!" Dorothy cried, running up to where Monica stood and looking out at Lena. "No, Janelle! Get off the ice!"  
  
"You know Nelly, too?" Lena mused.  
  
Dorothy held her arms out to Lena. "Please, Janelle! Get off of the ice!"  
  
"I'm not Janelle," Lena said crossly. "My name is Lena."  
  
"Lena?" Dorothy repeated. "Lena? Oh, no, no." Shaking with each sob, Dorothy fell to the snowy ground. Monica put her hand on Dorothy's shoulder and Patrick joined them, followed closely by Tess.  
  
"What's going on?" Monica asked Tess, leaving Patrick to comfort Dorothy, but still keeping an eye on Lena.  
  
Andrew stood by his friends, also watching Lena. "I wish I knew," he said quietly.  
  
Roger and Gloria also rushed to the scene. He then saw the Sheridan couple. "Those are the parents," he realized aloud, feeling relieved. "We should just check things out, and then I guess we can go, Gloria."  
  
Gloria nodded and went over to Tess, Monica and Andrew.  
  
"Good job, baby," Tess commented, giving Gloria a congratulating hug.  
  
"I hope so," replied Gloria.  
  
"Exactly," said Tess. "That's exactly it. Let's just hope this will all work out now." 


	8. Chapter Seven (the conclusion)

"Mercury Rising: Keeping Hope Alive"  
  
By Astraea Silver  
  
Silver_Astraea@yahoo.com  
  
http://chezastraea.cjb.net/  
  
  
  
*CHAPTER SEVEN*  
  
"Please come here, Lena," Roger coaxed.  
  
"It's Daddy, honey," added Patrick. "And Mom's here, too."  
  
"I'm goin' to see Janelle," Lena confirmed again. "We're goin' ice- skatin', ice-skatin' in Heaven." Once more, Lena sang, "I know a valley fair."  
  
"You remember that song, Lena?" asked Patrick.  
  
Lena didn't stop singing. ".Eileen Aroon."  
  
"That's how we named you. You remember that, Lena? I told you that," Patrick continued.  
  
".I know a cottage there."  
  
"Yes, Lena, just like Grams and Grandpa's home. Right?"  
  
".Eileen Aroon."  
  
"It isn't working!" Dorothy shrieked, tugging at Patrick's arm.  
  
Monica stepped toward the frozen lake. "Lena," she called gently. "Your parents are here. You can go to your house now."  
  
Lena shook her head, still singing and walking farther away. ".Far in the valley shade."  
  
"Shade can be nice, Lena, but you're looking for light," said Monica, "like your name. Did you know Eileen means 'light'?"  
  
".I know a tender maid."  
  
Monica smiled as light from Heaven surrounded her, Andrew, Tess, and Gloria. "We're angels, Lena."  
  
Lena stared blankly at her, but she didn't seem thoroughly shocked.  
  
Monica walked onto the frozen lake. When she reached about a meter away from the ground, the flimsy ice cracked under her weight and Lena cried out, but being an angel, Monica did not go down.  
  
"I am an angel, Lena, sent here to tell you God loves you, and He wants you to live on the earth. It doesn't have to be your time to go, yet, Lena. You still have a long and meaningful life ahead of you if you want it."  
  
"But no one wants me," Lena sobbed. "My Mommy and Daddy didn't want me, so I ran away, and they didn't come and get me. Then you didn't want me. I must be pretty unlovable if all of you thought that way."  
  
"But we don't." Monica sighed. "I care about you very much, Lena, and so do your parents, but you belong with them, not with me. I was just here to stay with you until you found each other."  
  
Lena sniffled and ran to Monica, who scooped her up and carried her to solid ground. "I ran away the day of Nelly's funeral," said Lena, after Monica put her down. "Mommy wouldn't talk to me, and when she did she called me Janelle, and Daddy said I shouldn't cry."  
  
"Everyone has their own way of dealing with their grief, and it takes some longer than others to admit that the tragedy really happened," Monica told Lena as she knelt down beside her.  
  
"But if Janelle was alive," Lena replied, "she would've talked to me. She would've let me cry. But she wasn't there, because she died. The ice wasn't frozen enough, and she fell in. She never liked water very much, either."  
  
"It was too warm," said Monica. "The mercury was rising, and once the heat was on, there wasn't anything that could keep the glass from shattering.or the ice."  
  
"Like what Luke said before he died," sniffled Lena.  
  
"Luke?" Roger repeated.  
  
Lena nodded. "A boy in the story Monica told me."  
  
"Monica?" said Roger, with just as much curiosity in his voice as before. He looked closer at Monica. "You. You were the one that came to Kerry and me soon after Luke died."  
  
"Roger?" Monica blinked in astonishment. "You're Roger? Roger Lowell?"  
  
"I am," Roger confirmed. "And you're the one who saved me, and then you came back to comfort me. Kerry seemed to know you already. You came to her before that, didn't you?"  
  
Before Monica could reply, Lena spoke up, "Yep, she told me. She was with her while you were talkin' to Luke before he went to Heaven."  
  
Roger smiled and tears came to his eyes. "He said he'd find out if he was going to Heaven. I'm glad he's with God. He really was a good kid."  
  
A chill swept threw the air and Tess shivered. "I hate to break up the reunion.but maybe we could continue this little powwow inside?" she suggested, holding a hand out to catch an occasional snowflake and shuddering.  
  
Everyone giggled at Tess's further mock despair and hurried to her office as the snow came down heavier.  
  
*  
  
"Let me see if I understand this." said Roger as they all sat by a fireplace, which Dorothy and Patrick were positive they hadn't seen earlier, but of course. "All of you are angels? What is this, a conspiracy?"  
  
Patrick and Dorothy also looked at them in wonderment. "Our therapist was an angel this whole time!" Patrick mused.  
  
"We were sent by God to tell you He loves you," said Tess.  
  
"And that there's always hope," Gloria added, smiling to Roger.  
  
"You've been running from your past, Dorothy," Tess continued. "You lost your daughter when Janelle died, but you had forgotten that Lena lost her sister. You shut her out as you mourned, because as much as you loved her, she could never make up for your loss.isn't that right?"  
  
Dorothy nodded, sniffling.  
  
"And Patrick," -Tess turned to him- "you were in pain, but instead of grieving and moving on, you shoved it aside and tried to lock it away forever, until it let itself out. You loved both your daughters, even if you and Lena shared some interests, like your love for music. But you were so busy making sure no one saw you cry, that you wouldn't let anyone else cry, either. It hurt too much to see them in pain, too, and you were worried that it might make you surrender to tears.which, I might add, you eventually did anyway."  
  
"So your little girl ran away," concluded Andrew, patting Tess's arm as a way of telling her to keep cool. "She couldn't talk to either of you, and she no longer had a sister to go to."  
  
"You also ran from your past, Lena," Monica said gently. "You did what some people do after traumatic experiences in their lives. You forced yourself to forget, and not only the hard times, but also everything else. I think you remembered with your soul, so occasionally you would know something.but you must have mastered your mind and the unwanted grief and fear took charge. Now you're afraid of the rising heat, the rising mercury, because you believe it took your sister. But aren't sprouts.the flowers in Grandpa's garden.in their nicest bloom in the spring, when it's getting warm and everything's blossoming?"  
  
There was a moment of silence as Lena accepted Monica's analogy.  
  
"She made herself forget like I did," Dorothy finally pointed out.  
  
"And I told her not to grieve," added Patrick.  
  
"Well, in summary," said Gloria, who always liked to be orderly, "So much has happened for all of you recently."  
  
"You've all had to deal with your past and acknowledge your present," Tess continued.  
  
"Now you need to plan for your future," said Andrew.  
  
"You've all felt alone or lost or upset," Monica added. "Now you must remember there will always be Someone with you, who knows who you are, and who will guide and console you whenever you need it most."  
  
"And now," Gloria finished with a bright smile, "you know that especially when you feel you have nothing else, you will still have hope."  
  
"Kerry would be pleased," Roger sighed, "after she reminded me so many times about hope and God and everything."  
  
The front door to the office opened and a little boy walked in.  
  
"Travis, hi!" Lena greeted, happy to see her new friend again and not finding it odd at all that he was walking in.  
  
Travis smiled and gave a friendly "hello" as he held the door and waited until his father entered, pushing a wheelchair in which an apparently ill woman sat.  
  
"Hi, Monica," said Victor, recognizing the woman from the park. "We came to see your friend, Tess."  
  
Monica smiled and indicated the senior angel. "This is Tess. Tess, this is- ."  
  
"I know who he is," Tess said, the grin of the Cheshire Cat spreading across her face. "We spoke on the phone earlier. This is Victor Olsen and his wife, Karen Wrede-Olsen."  
  
"Karen," whispered Roger. "Karen Wrede?"  
  
Karen nodded her kerchief-covered head and smiled. "Please forgive me.you do look familiar, but.do I know you?"  
  
The smile, so contagious one might say an epidemic had started, twitched at the corners of Roger's lips. "My name is Roger Lowell."  
  
  
  
*** Look for the second and third parts in this trilogy, "Flames Ablaze: Brave Good-byes" and "Ashes to Ashes: Picking Up the Pieces"! *** 


End file.
